Dark Ecstasy
by BronteLover
Summary: Dean Winchester is eighteen years old and promised to the mysterious Angel McLoughlin. Dean begins to have explicit sexual dreams about a mysterious lover at the same time he becomes engaged to Angel. Dean decides that he will run away on their wedding night, but his decision may lead to him learning an unexpected truth about his husband.


**Note:****I love both Supernatural and Angel, so I decided that I would pair Angel and Dean in a story. I hope you like it.**

Dean lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling as the rain fell in sheets outside, and the tree near his window beat a frantic tattoo against the pane. He rolled over and watched lightning light the bruised clouds and listened to the thunder clap loudly. He wanted to sleep, but that oblivion would not come, his mind was far too troubled for rest.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, he recalled the conversation he and his father had had before dinner.

"Listen Dean," his father said, sitting behind the large mahogany desk in his study. "You're eighteen now and that means you need to act like an adult. That's why your mother and I have made this very necessary decision for you."

Dean's green eyes widened in shock and he swallowed hard before he met his father's steady gaze.

"But-but I don't _understand. _I mean why do I have to get married now?" he asked. "And why to someone so much older?"

"AngelMcLoughlin is a much respected and very wealthy man, Dean. You should be extremely grateful that you're going to marry him. If we wait any longer, then you will not be an eligible age to get married, you will have passed your prime." Dean dropped his gaze to the carpet once more and nodded his head in resignation. "Good boy, Dean," his father almost smiled. "You will meet him tomorrow at his estate." Dean was tortured by the prospect of marrying a stranger, someone who he had no hope of ever loving. He had heard talk of Angel McLoughlin. He was said to be extremely handsome, but very much a recluse, and because of his lack of involvement in society, many rumours and myths had sprung up about him like a great curling fog. Dean only hoped that he could find an opportunity to run away so that he would not have to go through with the wedding. The thought of the wedding night made him want to weep, and that was _not _something that he was inclined to do often. With the resolve to escape his indentured destiny strong in his mind, he finally fell asleep. _Dean felt cool hands slowly sliding up his back, and cool lips gently kissing his nape. He sighed and turned his head, and the cool lips claimed his own in a slow, chaste kiss. _ _Cool fingertips skimmed over his rib cage, the dip of his back and the swell of his buttocks. Pleasure bloomed in his lower abdomen as he felt a tongue sliding down his spine, and licking the outwards curve of each vertebrae. _ _A cool fingertip tantalisingly circled his opening and then smoothly slipped inside of him, so that he felt a long, cool intrusion in his heat. He keened quietly as the finger massaged his prostate, and then was joined by another finger. _ _He gently undulated his hips into the sheets below him, and the combination of the fingers inside of him and the friction on his cock, made him cry out as he found his release. His mouth was claimed in a kiss once more, and then the coolness was gone. _

* * *

The next morning, he dressed the same as he always did, in an Iron Maiden t-shirt, faded jeans with holes at the knees and black and white All Stars. When his mother suggested he change, he gave her a look that made it very clear that he would be made to do no more than he was already being forced to do. They left the confines of the city and drove out into the country, where large green fields led to purple mountains below a deep blue sky. Dean could see horses grazing in the meadows, and farmhouses with red roofs. He imagined living such a simple life, and remembered when he had visited his grandparents at their house near the sea. That was the only time that he had felt truly happy and free, away from the shackles of responsibility innate in being John Winchester's son. They drove until they came to a massive pale stoned house that overlooked an equally impressive lake. Dean felt his panic return once more when he was ushered out of the car by his mother, and followed his father up the great front steps. They knocked once before a butler appeared and showed them in. "Master McLoughlin will be down in a moment if you would please follow me out onto the terrace," the butler said, directing them in the desired direction. Dean couldn't supress his gasp when he saw how magnificent the gardens were. There was a huge marble fountain in the centre of a pond, which Dean could see was home to fish whose bodies shone and shimmered in the afternoon sun. Pebble walk ways led outwards from the stone bordered pond, towards clearly demarcated small, smooth lawns of peridot green grass and flowers of vivid colour that swayed delicately in the breeze. A beautiful maze stretched from the end of the garden to the emerald green trees of the distant wood. Dean wanted to run to that wood and uncover all of its secrets, and lay on the cool earth and look up at the patterns the trees made against the sky. "Hello," came a low voice, like velvet rapped in silk, and roused Dean from his fantasies. "I'm Angel McLoughlin." Dean turned around and bit his tongue in order to stop yet another gasp from escaping his parted lips. The most beautiful man he had ever seen stood before him, dressed entirely in black from his silk shirt to his perfectly tailored trousers and boots. His skin was pale, like alabaster, and Dean imagined it to be just as firm and chiselled beneath those expensive clothes. His onyx eyes danced strangely in the light, as if they held secrets in their consuming depths. His hair was dark brown and short, Dean could see that it would be soft and thick to the touch. Dean stepped away from the balustrade, as if drawn by some undeniable magnetism, and walked towards Angel until they stood eye to eye. He distantly noted that they were the same height, but that Angel was broader than him, and more powerful because of his maturity. Dean suddenly felt, despite his own rather impressive physique, very fragile and young in comparison to this brooding, older man. There was something familiar about this man, and Dean felt as if a forgotten memory was trying to push at the restraints of his mind. "I'm Dean Winchester," he replied. "I'm glad to meet you." Angel smiled slightly and his gaze slowly took Dean in. The boy was breathtakingly beautiful, with his light brown hair that had hints of gold, large jade eyes that met his own with wonder and a deep burning defiance. His skin was like honey and his lips were the colour of freshly crushed raspberries, and Angel knew that they would taste as impossibly sweet. His body was lithe and lovely in his youth, but there was a hardness to him that Angel suspected would increase as he grew older. He was very young now, after all. Angel wanted him very badly, and he recognised that despite Dean's reserved air and his naivety, that he wanted Angel, too. He thought about how Dean would feel beneath him, above him, and _around _him in the flesh. The sounds that would fall from that exquisite mouth and the way those green eyes would glow with pleasure in real life. "I'm pleased to meet you, too," he re-joined.

* * *

_Dean lay on his back as he felt the cool hands cup his buttocks so that his cock could be lifted into the cool confines of his dream lover's mouth._ _"__Oh please," he whispered. _ _A wet tongue swirled around the moist head of his cock, and then licked the rigid flesh from root to tip. Dean sobbed in pleasure, his hands flexing and unflexing against the sheets. A finger slid inside his entrance once more, and when it began to massage his prostate, he couldn't hold on any longer, and he came inside his lover's mouth. _ _Firm lips kissed their way up his stomach and chest, and finally came to his mouth. His lover's tongue slipped past his lips, and he tasted his own hot release inside the cool mouth. _ _"__You taste so good, pretty baby."_

* * *

The wedding was quite a grand affair, thanks to both Angel and Dean's large families and numerous family friends attending the ceremony. During the reception, Dean drank rather a lot in order to dull the fear he felt at the risk of his planned escape that night. He wanted Angel, and that scared him even more than not feeling anything for his husband. Although he knew that Angel was kind and caring, he knew little else about him, and while that mystery excited him somewhat, he also felt alienated by Angel's lack of candour. He _had _to stop thinking of the need that Angel had made him feel from only a few kisses shared in the garden and the maze, which Angel knew so well. When Dean was led to a room that was on the ground floor of the house and was made for the purpose of freshening up, he knew that this was his opportunity to run away. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was dressed entirely in white as a symbol of his purity, and the white silk shirt and satin pants made his skin looked even more golden. He had to look away because he appeared so young and afraid, and he could afford to be neither of those things. He opened the French doors which led out onto the garden, and he walked quickly into the cool aired freedom of the night. He could hear an owl calling distantly in the stillness of the night, and the moon seemed to be a silver beacon as he fled. He was at the edge of the garden when he felt a large, strong hand grip his forearm, before he was swung around and held against a broad, powerful chest. He looked up into black eyes, and he let out a shaky breath that bordered on a sob. His green eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and he blinked as a tear escaped and slowly fell down his smooth cheek. "Where are you going, Dean?" Angel asked softly, as he slowly stroked his young husband's tear stained cheek. "And why are you crying?" Dean wanted to hit him and rage at him, but he cried more instead, the sobs raking his body and he buried his face in the cool juncture of Angel's neck. Angel loosened his grip on his forearm and drew him against him, his hand rubbing soothing circles against Dean's back. He relaxed against Angel's hard body, and allowed him to scoop him up in his arms and carry him back to the house. When Angel took him upstairs to their bedroom and laid him down on the bed, he said, "Please don't, Angel." Angel deftly unbuttoned Dean's shirt and slipped it off of his pliant body, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to make you feel _so _good, pretty baby." Dean meant to push against his chest, but then he met hard muscle and his hand stroked the cool flesh instead. A part of his mind raged at him to keep resisting, but he could only drape his arm over Angel's back as he kissed Dean with practiced ease and slow building passion. _Pretty baby. _Why did that term of endearment sound so familiar? He moaned softly as Angel indolently slid his pants and underwear down his long, golden legs and gently kissed the arch of his foot and line of his ankle. "So exquisite," Angel murmured, gazing at Dean's naked body. Dean found himself becoming completely pliable under that smouldering onyx gaze, and the promise of the bliss that it held. He watched as Angel slipped out of his own pants, and stood before Dean in all his pale perfection. Dean's mouth went dry at the sight of his husband's long, thick cock and the realisation that that would be inside of him very soon. Angel smoothly turned him so that he was lying on his stomach, and knelt behind him as he ran his long fingered hands over Dean's firm thighs. His hands were so cool and Dean's warm skin felt accustomed to them, but Dean couldn't remember why. He buried his face into the pillow and cried out as Angel licked his entrance in one broad stroke. He repeated the maddening action until Dean was sobbing incoherently with pleasure. He slid his thumbs inside of Dean's tightness, baring the pink flesh to his hungry gaze. He slid his tongue into the scolding heat and moaned, making Dean shiver from the resulting vibrations. Dean bit the pillow in order to muffle his desperate sounds of ecstasy, and maintain some of his pride despite being reduced to a trembling mass of sensations at Angel's deft hands. He whimpered in disappointment when Angel's tongue left his heat. "Don't do that, Dean. Don't hide your sounds from me. You sound so beautiful when you're experiencing pleasure. When I'm making love to you." Dean rested his cheek against the pillow and nodded, wondering why it sounded as if Angel meant that they had made love before. His mind was awash with sensation again, however, as Angel's tongue delved his scalding channel. "Angel, _Angel,_" he whispered desperately over and over again. Angel sat back on his haunches and gazed at Dean's pink, gaping entrance with unmistakeable hunger. If he wasn't inside of his young husband soon, he would surely go insane. Dean groaned in anticipation as he looked back at Angel, and saw that the older man was applying lubricant to his monstrous cock. Dean's mind reeled at the thought of so much going inside of his small opening, but he wanted it very badly, too. He gave a breathy cry as Angel slowly slid inside of him with measured thrusts. He soothingly stroked Dean's back, "Breath for me, baby. Just like that. It'll feel so good soon." Dean moaned as Angel began to slowly thrust in and out of him, and the blunt head of his thick cock connected with his prostate. When the pleasure raced up his spine and down the back of his thighs, he began to meet Angel's increasingly hard and fast thrusts. The French doors leading out onto the balcony of Angel's room, were open, and the cool night air blew into the room and cooled Dean's heated flesh. Mingled with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, and Dean's desperate pleas and admissions of pleasure, were the faint shivering of the trees in the distant wood and soothing gurgle of the fountain in the garden. The owl that Dean had heard earlier still called out in the night, as if seeking something. "Dean," Angel whispered, his voice like darkened honey. "You feel so incredible. I want to see you come. Come for me, Dean." Dean arched his back and thrust back onto Angel as raw ecstasy exploded through his body, and made him grip the bed sheets until his knuckles were white and smarting. His climax seemed to go on forever and wash over him like some staggering ocean wave. Angel watched, enraptured, as Dean arched before him and met his deep thrust as he cried out in pleasure and came hot and hard all over the sheets beneath him. Dean's passage constricted around his length like a vice, and ripped his own orgasm out of him so that he spilled his seed deep inside Dean's convulsing heat. He could not remember a time when he had felt such unadulterated physical pleasure, and he buried his face in Dean's sweat slicked back as he processed the feeling. "Angel," Dean murmured drowsily into the pillow. Angel slowly pulled out of him and went into the bathroom to retrieve a cloth so that he could clean them both up. He could not resist watching his release slowly slide out of Dean's flushed entrance, however, nor could he resist the urge to kneel down and lick it out of his husband. Dean moaned brokenly as he felt Angel's tongue lick his own release out of Dean's body and off the backs of his trembling thighs. "Angel," he whispered again. "Sleep now, pretty baby," Angel replied, as he pulled Dean back against him so that Dean was the little spoon. _I'll tell him tomorrow,_ Angel thought. _Then I will know if he truly loves me._

* * *

Dean woke the next morning feeling rather sore, but he smiled and buried his face in the pillow at the memory of he and Angel making love. He frowned, however, when he realised that he was the only one in the bed. He pulled on the silk robe that was draped over the foot of the bed and went in search of his husband. He walked until he came to the centre of the house and stopped and gaped when he saw that there was an Olympic size pool beneath a high glass ceiling. Glass windows ran along the walls and gave a beautiful view of the gardens and the hills beyond. Dean smiled when he saw that Angel was swimming in the deep blue water, his beautiful alabaster body gleaming. He had to fight the childish desire to avert his gaze as he realised that Angel was naked. He swam to the end of the pool and resting his arms against the tiles as he returned Dean's smile. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, beckoning for Dean to come closer. "Yes. I didn't like waking up alone, though," he admitted shyly, sitting down and dangling his feet in the water. Angel swam so that he was in front of him, and undid the tie on his rope before he smoothly pulled Dean into the water and against him. "_Angel, _I'm naked," Dean almost grinned, as he wrapped his legs around Angel's lean waist. "I know, but so am I. I'm sorry about letting you wake up alone," he breathed into Dean's ear. "It won't happen again." Dean gently kissed him on the mouth and Angel swallowed his moan as he slid two fingers inside of Dean, and began to slow piston them in and out. "How about we go and have a shower and only wash at the end?" Angel suggested with a smirk.

* * *

Dean was surprised when Angel suggested that they go to the forest. He had never been allowed to go when they were engaged. Even though Angel had never forbidden it outright, he knew that he did not want Dean to go there. They walked through the maze and then the perfectly cut hedges gave way to the slightly taller grass that led to the tall emerald leaves and chocolate brown barks of the trees. Even though Angel was holding his hand, Dean felt as if the forest itself was guiding him towards it. It was as if the forest was trying to tell him something, make him remember something. As they walked deeper into the canopy of the trees and cool shade that was sporadically broken by the sunlight, his mind felt as if it was being probed. They came to a clearing and he looked at Angel in confusion as he let go of Dean's hand and stood a little way away from him. _You taste so good, pretty baby. _ Dean stared at Angel for what seemed like an age before he said, "It was you in my dreams. It was you making love to me." Angel nodded guiltily, "Yes. It was me." "How?" Dean demanded. "And why? Why would you want to do that to me?" "When I was shown your picture, I thought you were the most exquisite person I'd ever seen in my life. I fell in love with you instantly, but I had to know who you were, and the only the way I could think of was through your dreams. You couldn't hide from me there." "But how did you do it?" Angel looked away for a moment, and his voice was soft as he replied, "I'm… I'm a vampire, but I'm also a sorcerer… I've been alive for almost three hundred years." Dean stared at him in absolute shock, "I-I don't understand." "Yes you do, Dean," Angel replied calmly, walking towards him. "You're just afraid." Dean stood stock still as Angel gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him against his chest. "If you want to leave me, that's fine," Angel murmured tightly. "But just know that I love you and I would never hurt you. You're mine now, and I'm yours, and even if you hate me forever, I'll never stopping wanting and loving you." Dean's fingers sunk into the slippery smooth silk of Angel's shirt as he moved backwards and looked at Angel's face. He could see pain and love in the depths of his black eyes, and he knew that if he left, Angel would never be able to go on. He knew that Angel had been waiting for him for all these centuries, but that because he loved Dean so much, he would let him go if Dean wanted it to be so. "I can't leave you," Dean said with a sigh. Angel frowned in surprise and confusion, "Why not?" Dean smiled, "Because I love you." Angel suddenly smiled, and Dean gasped softly at how it made Angel somehow look even more beautiful than usual. "Make love to me again," Dean whispered, sliding his hands downwards and undoing Angel's shirt before his hands ran over his cool skin. Angel slowly guided him to the ground, and Dean sighed softly as he felt the hard earth beneath his back and heard the sound of the breeze dancing through the trees. Angel slowly stripped him of his clothes until he was completely naked while Angel still had his pants on. Dean sat up and pulled Angel's pants down his long legs so that they were both naked under the shade of the trees. Angel turned him over so that his cock brushed against the dirt and leaves and made him shiver with sensation. He panted as Angel's tongue long, wet tongue slid into him along with his cool finger, which soon became three, making Dean cry out and writhe against the ground. "Please Angel! Please! Now." He let out a sound of surprise as he manhandled onto his back and then onto Angel's lap. He keened and dug his nails into perfect pale skin as he was impaled on thick, rigid flesh. Angel's cool mouth latched onto his nipple, and bit and licked the sensitive nub until it was swollen. Angel began to thrust up into him with an unrelenting rhythm that made Dean's head loll back in pleasure, and wrap his arms around his husband's broad back. "_God _Dean," Angel murmured into his warm neck. "You're so gorgeous. The sounds you make. They drive me crazy." Dean almost choked as Angel's cock persistently connected with his pleasure centre, and his large hands cupped Dean's buttocks so that he could control the rhythm. The pleasure began to uncoil deep inside of Dean and he screamed, making birds take off in flight, as he spilled all over Angel's stomach and chest. Angel tightened his grip on Dean's smooth cheeks and he frantically thrust upwards and then came long and hard inside that maddening heat. Angel lifted him off his lap and then stood, tall and graceful, and took in the beautiful sight of Dean kneeling at his feet, with his green eyes glowing and his lips almost crimson. He took Dean's hand and pulled him so that they stood face to face, golden skin pressed against porcelain. "There's a river down there," Angel said. "Let's clean ourselves up." Dean nodded and let Angel lead him, naked, towards the sounds of bubbling water. When they stepped into the river, it was cold, but Dean's overheated flesh rejoiced. Angel went below the water for a moment before he came back up again and gently gripped Dean's slim hips. His dark hair was slicked back from his face, and his sloe black eyes took Dean in with suggestive indolence. "You really are the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Angel murmured. Dean encircled Angel's neck and smiled, "I could say the same thing about you." "Really?" Angel grinned. "Really." Dean rested his head against Angel's shoulder and listened to the quiet sounds of the forest, and the gurgling of the river. He watched the golden and orange bodies of the fish as they gracefully swam with the current, and he thought how happy he felt, here, in the arms of his dark lover. 


End file.
